"None of us can ever do enough. But doing something is no small thing," she says, holdin' out her hand. "Shake my hand and wake, Mr Hollow. And try to remember what I have said when you do."

"I will, ma'am," I say. "An' hope it'll be a good something that gets done."

An' take her hand and the table and the room're thinning like fog, 'til they're just the air in the room, and the chair's hard and wide. One'a the benches in the Abbey, an' the whole place fer the moment is still, peaceful'n'steady in the night.

Look up at the altar, an' just sit fer a minute, turnin' what happened over in my head.